


The Only Way to Get You Out (I Don't Like It)

by nikuy



Series: Hard and Fast (It's A Roller-coaster Ride) [2]
Category: Football RPF, real madrid
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mild Voyeurism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Out of Character, Plot What Plot, Plotless, Slutty!Mesut, Smut, Spanking, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikuy/pseuds/nikuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It wasn’t meant to happen, that’s for sure, but everything just seemed so right for him, the other boy, and the rest of the guys in the crowded living room. He shouldn’t have done this, a part of him said, but Morata looked so beautiful and he initiated the kiss first before the encouraging chants from their teammates.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Way to Get You Out (I Don't Like It)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on Querencia, I'm not leaving it undone, though some bunnies often invite me to procrastinate.
> 
> Basically this has no plot at all but I feel like to post this. Um. I hope you guys enjoy.

It wasn’t meant to happen, that’s for sure, but everything just seemed so right for him, the other boy, and the rest of the guys in the crowded living room. He shouldn’t have done this, a part of him said, but Morata looked so beautiful and he initiated the kiss first before the encouraging chants from their teammates. It wasn’t long until the midfielder tossed the thoughts aside as he started to grind his hips with the younger boy’s, he could feel strong fingers gripping around his hips. The music was loud against his eardrums, the room was heated, and the chants of his friends had become his motivation to carry on.

 

They were all drunk. Mesut was about to blame Pepe for spiking their supposed-to-be-mocktails, but the thought evaporated the second his lower lip got bitten by the younger footballer. He could hear the dirty chants of the drunk Pirata, Higuain’s harassing touches on the globes of his ass, Albiol’s hand sneaking up Morata’s rumpled shirt, while the rest of the team decided to stand back and watch. He kind of liked the attention he was getting. In a mere second, he wondered, that might be why he could manage to perform in front of thousands of people but squirm away in interviews. He loved people to watch him perform what he was good at, and it wasn’t talking.

 

It made sense a little, even the drunk guys cheered. He loved to hear the cheer. He wanted a little more, maybe that was why he started to unbuckle Morata’s jeans and took his shirt off afterwards only to throw that piece of cloth to a sleeping Sami (the guy would go mad to see him in such state, but not even an earthquake could wake a drunk Sami anyway) and grabbed the younger boy’s hips to grind both of their growing erections. The chants were getting louder, the air was hotter, he gasped at the young Spaniard’s half-lidded eyes. Everything felt so erotic, even the slightest turn of Morata’s head was erotic. It was a great loss for him as Adan decided to pry Morata away from him with a small, apologetic grin.

 

“Sorry, Mes, it was hot, but he’s mine.”

 

Mesut’s brain worked three times harder translating the line and to comprehend the logic, but when he finally understood, those two boys were already gone. He couldn’t help a pout and turned towards Pipa. Maybe Pipa would help him to be the life of the party again; he thought to himself and started to stalk towards the Argentinean. Again, before he could even comprehend the situation, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him aside and far from the drink counter and Pipita.

 

“You’ve done enough.” Said a familiar voice in his ear; the voice that made him giggle for its rare sternness.

 

“But I like it.” He grinned at the towering figure, grinning even wider at Sergio’s flushed face. “You’re not drunk.”

 

“High tolerance. Come, you should sleep.” He dragged the young Turk out of the living room to upstairs.

 

He bumped against a slurred Cristiano on his way, smiling before Mesut decided that it was decent to drape himself all over Cristiano and practically rubbed himself all over the striker while giggling like mad. Sergio quickly detached the younger man off of the Portuguese who smirked though he looked stoned. He shrugged as he locked the struggling Turk around his waist and dragged him upstairs.

 

“Let me go! Let me-“

 

“You should stop throwing yourself to every fucking guy that comes to your sight! This _puta_ …” he shook his own head and by the second floor, he released the younger man, “If Kaka saw you, he’d cast Brazilian voodoo spell on you.”

 

Mesut leaned onto the wall and glared at Sergio. Why did this man spoil his fun? He was just having fun, it was cool, everybody cheered and laughed, but this man was no fun. He wondered why.

 

“Stop looking at me like that. Go to sleep.” Sergio flicked his forehead in disgust. He was drunk too, but he could still control himself, unlike this stupid _puta_ over here. If he was to throw himself to Cristiano, the drunk Portuguese would’ve slept with him and Kaka’s rage would be inevitable. He did notice the way Fabio, Pipita, and even Chori looked at the suddenly strip-teasing German; they were ready to pounce on him.

 

“I’m not sleepy…” the younger man slurred as he leaned fully on the wall; topless with an expression that was almost inappropriate. His lips were glistening and swollen from making out with Morata. His tan had lightened a little, Sergio could almost recognize his natural paleness, especially as his jeans rode lower and showed his jutting pelvic bone. He had been so thin and tiny compared to their other teammates; sure he was finely-shaped after two years in Madrid, his bangs grew longer too, but the Spaniard had always and kept on seeing him like a sophomore in the academy. He was just so young and naïve.

 

“You are.” He grabbed the shorter man’s arm again and almost shoved him to the aisle of guest rooms. He was aware of his sudden interest at the sight of the younger man’s shoulder blade, but he easily shrugged it off. Maybe it was the alcohol. And also the suspicious sounds from the taken guest rooms; little did he knew who they were all.

 

“Oh,” Mesut dragged his feet to the nearest door, “This one is unlocked Sergio, look.” He opened the door a little and peeked in. The Spaniard was about to yell and drag him away from the door, but Mesut exclaimed, “Sergio, it’s Adan and Morata!”

 

Curiosity was always on its best with Sergio who couldn’t resist the temptation and mumbled an incoherent ‘fuck it’ and peeked from behind his teammate.

 

It really was Adan and Morata inside. The thing was, he shouldn’t be this surprised since he already knew that they were fucking each other, but to see the real thing was different. There he saw Morata’s thighs were bent to his chest as Adan fucked him rather hard. The younger boy gasped and moaned loudly, so freely as if he wasn’t the shy, reserved Morata everyone used to know. He even begged, he begged for more to the goalkeeper in a way that made Sergio shiver. He quickly diverted his gaze and tried hard to clear his mind. They were his teammates, for God’s sake; it was inappropriate to watch.

 

He then heard Mesut sighed and glanced at him only to find him slipping a hand past the waist band of his jeans. He quickly pulled him away from the door and carefully closed the door, “Are you out of your mind!?” he hissed.

 

“The fuck…” the younger man mumbled as his hand slipped out of his pants, “I was enjoying myself! Morata’s so cute…I didn’t know he could do…that.” he blushed and absent-mindedly stroked the bulk on his pants.

 

It was Sergio’s turn to blush. “Quit it.” He growled and dragged the boy and shoved him into an empty guest room. Mesut whined and tried to reach the door, but even the drunk Spaniard was even stronger (he knew that if the younger man was sober, he wouldn’t stand a chance though) and shoved him towards the bed. “Sleep. It’s dangerous out there.”

 

The younger man chuckled, “I’m not a kid. You sleep.” He still got that stupid grin on his face, looking satisfied at Sergio’s exasperation. He took a step closer to the taller man, “Don’t be too uptight…I enjoyed the party. Everyone is having so much fun, I was too,” He took another step and smiled innocently at the Spaniard, “Didn’t you feel it like everyone does when I was making out with Morata? Don’t you feel…bothered like Adan?” he whispered gently as he placed a palm on the older man’s chest, gently making his way up to his shoulder. Sergio almost hissed as he closed his eyes to feel the foreign yet comforting touch and melted into it. “You’re so tense, Sergio. I can help that.” he started to lean in and rub his crotch against the Spaniard’s thigh slowly.

 

“S-stop.”

 

“I’m still a little hot...” Mesut whispered as he picked up his pace on grinding the taller man’s thigh and gasped. Sergio tried not to look at him but it was just too hard, the German looked so beautiful and flustered with his half-lidded eyes and pink lips parted. He bucked up his hips and he almost cried as he thought he creamed himself when his hand trailed up Sergio’s thighs, feeling up the density of muscles. He had never thought about it before, he liked how the Spaniard looked at him; he seemed like he got lost in him as he watched, as he fully concentrated on him. “I’m already so wet, Sergio…it’s too hot.”

 

The blonde man gritted his teeth. He let the German to wrap his arms around his neck just to whisper a simple question, “Won’t you regret it in the morning?”

 

Mesut only gave him a knowing smile and kissed his chin gently, “Won’t you?”

 

“Bad, bad boy.” Sergio gave a muffled reply and kissed those pink, swollen lips.

 

The younger man was startled at first, Sergio wasn’t like Morata or anyone he had kissed before; he was bold, the kiss was bordering to harsh which he liked down to the smallest bit. He loved how he could still taste the Argentinean wine Higuain brought them on the Spaniard’s tongue, it was sweet and exciting. He didn’t even remember when they managed to come near the bed until the back of his knees hit the edge and he was shoved back. He looked up and waited for Sergio to do anything, but the older man didn’t budge.

 

“Pants off and turn around.”

 

A wicked smiled formed on the young German’s flushed face as he was more than happy to comply. He started it slow, though, as if he wanted Sergio to enjoy the show…or was it him who devours the hungry look on his teammate’s dark face? He easily slid the unbuckled jeans of his down to his knees slowly, until he finally kicked them off and stood there in his white undergarments that formed a tent on his groin. He licked his own lips and ran his own hand up and down on his bulging erection, eyeing the older man’s darkening eyes at the sight of him teasing himself. He felt quite pleased.

 

“Should these be off too?” he asked with a daring grin, again, biting his lush lower lip.

 

With a simple nod from Sergio, Mesut slipped his thumb beneath the elastic band and started to tug the last piece of cloth slowly, almost measured as his turgid erection finally sprang free of its confines and he made a low sigh at the sudden contact with the cool air. The Spaniard’s mouth went dry when the white underwear hit the floor without any sound. His eyes caressed the smooth, hairless skin of those strong calf, and smooth, chunky thighs and finally, his beautiful and hard-as-rock penis. It should be a crime for a guy to be this clean, to smell this good, or to look that attractive. He could feel himself hardens in his maroon jeans and he almost couldn’t believe it. The room was dim, but he could’ve have sworn that he could define every contour, every flexing muscle, even every single detail of his teammate’s naked body.

 

He gulped empty air just to obtain his voice back and looked into the Turk’s dark orbs, taking a step closer before he said quietly; “Turn around.”

 

Mesut said nothing more and turned his back on his teammate slowly, facing the neatly made bed. He waited, a few seconds felt more like eternity in expectation. He released a sigh as he felt Sergio’s palm against the low of his hips, caressing his skin gently before he brought his lips to the crinkly lobe of his left ear, only to touch against it. Barely.

 

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Mesut.” That mouth let out a whisper that makes the younger man’s knees wobble. “Pretending to be the innocent little reserved young man you are not, all those shyness and obedience,” he slipped an arm around the middle of the German’s lean body and slid down only to messaged the root of his quivering dick.

 

“Oh.” Mesut mouthed to feel the touch he had been waiting for on his erection.

 

“Beneath that thick cover of yours, you’re just a little show-off, aren’t you?” he reached further with his fingers and squeezed the sacs rather hard, making the younger man squirm uncomfortably. “Flashing yourself like that, teasing other guys. Are you aware of the consequences?” he squeezed harder and Mesut squirmed more, trying to get free.

 

“L-let go…” he wept, “It hurts…Sergio…” he gasped as the older man suddenly let go and shoved him to the bed. His face hit the mattress first with a muffled ‘oof’. He was about to get up, but Sergio pushed him down and held him there. “Serg—what the fuck…let me go!”

 

“Shut up.” The older man murmured and ran his hand all over the smooth expanse of the younger man’s exposed arse. Exposed, open, and unprotected. So smooth and pale, unlike the rest of his body that was covered in fake tan. He was almost convinced that he’d have an exciting color as well after a good slap or two on the plush, supple mound of flesh. He looked almost good enough to eat. He then kneed the younger man’s legs up and spread his thighs wide enough for him to rest his knee on the bed. He heard Mesut whined, but it went ignored. The lad deserved a good punishment.

 

Mesut was about to voice out another protest but he was muffled by a sharp contact, skin-to-skin, against his ass. He yelped quite loudly but the second blow came just before he could finish. He cried out at the third blow Sergio delivered; the man didn’t even slow it down, but they were well-measured. It was as if Sergio knew well what he was doing, but Mesut couldn’t care now that the fourth blow sent an electrical sensation straight to his already dripping cock. He pleaded in three different languages by the time the Spaniard gave him the fifth and sixth blow, tears started to run down his cheek at the burning pain but as weird as it was, he had been grinding against the clean bed cover harder on each blow. It was more erotic than it was frightening; he had never been so hard in his life.

 

Once Sergio stopped, he kneaded the reddening spot on the plump ass, making the younger man squirm more than before. He smirked, “Look how much of a slut you are, getting wet like a girl from being spanked.”

 

“N-no!” Mesut tried to defend himself.

 

“Little liar.” Sergio spat and he slipped his hand in-between the German’s parted thighs and squeezed on the younger man’s thick shaft.

 

“Ah…ahn…” the younger man threw his head back, hands gripping tightly onto the sheet as his teammate fisted his hand around his dripping cock and started to pump it very slowly.

 

“ _Dios_ ,” he bent close and licked the quivering shoulder, “How wet you are.” He rubbed the slit with his thumb and squeezed out more pearlescent juice while the German writhed and pleaded in his mother language. He brought his stained fingers to the younger man’s lips, smeared some of the pre-come all over that pink, quivering lower lip before he shoved them into the hot, humid cavern. Mesut made a startled noise, but the Spaniard pressed down on his tongue and shoved a little deeper. “Show me how you suck cocks, pretty boy. Suck it hard.”

 

Mesut’s eyes were blurry from tears and lust, but he complied by slowly moving his tongue languidly along the expanse of the fingers and sucked on them until his cheeks hollowed. He let out a stifled moan at the unfamiliar taste of himself on his tongue, thickly lathered his taste buds before he swallowed it clean and licked the fingers some more. Saliva dripped down his chin as he caressed the tattooed arm and finally took a proper hold on the strong wrist before he pulled the fingers out of his mouth and licked the soft palm whole-heartedly, nibbling on the skin between the thumb and the fore finger before he took the fore and the middle fingers into his mouth once again, up to the knuckles until they hit the back of his throat and he hummed.

 

It took a second for the Spaniard to snap out of the reverie and pulled his arm from within the boy’s grip. He pushed him down onto the mattress harder. Mesut gasped and before he could react more, two, three, five slaps landed on his arse, leaving him no gap to take a breath or to make any voice. After the last blow, he could feel Sergio retreated from his back. He could only stay on the bed, cock achingly hard and tears streamed down his face. It was painful, but it was so good, he couldn’t decide. He could feel his ass growing swollen; it wouldn’t look great tomorrow, it’d be all bluish and beaten.

 

He was far too distracted to hear the unzipped jeans and a piece of cloth being tossed to the floor. Sergio was eyeing the swollen, deep crimson ass cheeks hungrily. He didn’t even think about control anymore, he wouldn’t want to think about anything. He reached the bedside table—he knew Cris would always provide his guests their necessities and there it is—a bottle of lube. Mesut only perked up his head and tried to look back only to find his teammate standing behind him, his enormous hard shaft in his hand as he squeezed out a generous amount of lube all over and slicked himself with his hand.

 

Mesut bit his lip in want; he ignored the burning pain on his bottom, Sergio’s cock looked delicious. He would want that in his mouth also, but priority, priority. Sergio didn’t seem like he could wait, but he tossed the lube near Mesut while massaging himself. “Prepare yourself.”

 

Hesitantly, the Turk reached for the bottle of lube and squeezed out some to his hand with some efforts. He parted his legs wider and slid his hand in-between his thighs and slipped one finger in-between the cheeks and whimpered. Sergio’s eyes were glued to that ass, he licked his own lips at the sight. His pace on stroking himself went up a notch as Mesut found his pink, clean pucker and gasped rather erotically. The boy did his best massaging his own pucker in his complicated position before he finally pushed in and let out a lewd mewl.

 

The older man was watching intently as his teammate tried to push his finger deeper and failed. He decided just to stretch himself more, making more adorable noises as he added another finger and, again, tried to push them deeper and failed. He gasped loudly and cried, “Oh, god…!” he got frustrated so quickly, Sergio smirked and felt a little sorry, but the lad deserved it. The younger man kept on trying to angle himself, but the older man pushed his back down again, it was quite entertaining to watch the boy struggle. “Sergio, please…”

 

“Please what?” the older man replied with an evil leer.

 

“F-fuck me…”

 

“Buck up.”

 

And the German did. He even opened himself wide enough for Sergio who came closer behind him and without any warning guided himself over the pink, twitching cleft. He smirked at the sight and pushed in gently, earning a sharp gasp from the younger man. He didn’t give any time for the Turk to breath and kept on pushing. Mesut made some weird, choked sounds, almost like a stifled sob only sharper. His muscles strained taut. The Spaniard didn’t stop until he could fit himself all in down to the base.

 

He waited and let the younger man to relax. Mesut was sprawled beneath him, breathing harshly. He felt so full and stretched open that wide and the feelings excited him more. Sergio then slowly pulled out, making him squirm and slammed back in hard to hear him gasp. He started to move slowly but picking up on his pace. Hands were gripping on the boy’s shallow hips, keeping his still as he thrusted in and out, hard.

 

Mesut cried out at ever single thrust, his hips jerked. He wanted to push back onto the older man, but he was kept still and couldn’t do anything much else than crying and begging for more. Sergio gave him more; deeper, harder thrusts. His mind went blank at the sensation, his dick was dripping and the stain on the bed got much worse. He wanted to touch himself, but suddenly Sergio pulled out completely and he whimpered.

 

“No…fuck, don’t!” he cried and he turned around to look at his teammate and his deliciously huge cock. He had to bite his fingers, how he wanted that cock to be inside him again. Sergio was being evil, he actually sobbed.

 

“I don’t see you try to prove your point on how much you need a cock up in your ass.” Sergio said and he walked to the other side of the bed, Mesut’s eyes were glued on him still. He pulled off the cover of the bed and climbed onto the bed, leaning on the bedpost comfortably. The Turk still stared and Sergio looked at him, “I guess you were not so sincere then.” He was about to move, but quickly the younger man grabbed his arm.

 

“P-please don’t go!” he squeaked. The older man leaned back nonchalantly, waiting for the next move and finally Mesut crawled fully onto the bed and moved to straddle the older man. He grabbed around the other’s massive, dripping wet erection gently and guided himself onto it. Once he felt the tip against his pucker, he writhed and moaned as he stretched himself to take it all in. It was a single most erotic thing Sergio had ever seen; his teammate with his eyes closed, lips parted to call out his name, and the sight of that greedy hole engulfing him inch by inch. He placed his palms on the boy’s pale thighs until he could feel he was inside up to the hilt and hissed.

 

Mesut tried to look down, adoring how stretched he was around the other man’s cock and whimpered as he moved up a bit and slammed his ass down. He placed his hands on Sergio’s toned chest, running them along the tattooed parts and tried to bounce his ass again. He squeezed his eyes shut, angling himself so on the older man’s chest and moved his hips with hurried pace. Soon wet sounds filled the room, the Turk’s face was painted with ecstasy while the older man watched him move, caressing along the smooth, pale thighs absent-mindedly. Mesut was beautiful; no wonder everyone always wanted a little piece of him, eyes looking at him in a disrobing way. Sergio had to grin at the thought; he was the one who got this sweet little ass tonight and not the others. The thought itself made him excited even more.

 

“Oh yeah…yes…” Mesut babbled as he moved his hips harder, “More. More.” He gasped louder as he increased his speed.

 

The Spaniard eyes his deluded face, it was just hot and he couldn’t let the lad to have all the fun to himself and he tightened his grip on the younger man hips and started to thrust up. Mesut moaned as his slam met Sergio’s thrusts and he moved faster to feel more. It felt so, so good he couldn’t even imagine living his life without having this. Sergio’s pace was quick, not hesitant, not measured. Almost like how he played football in the pitch with La Furia Roja; no wonder they were called ‘the angry red’. He even fucked like an angry bull, he didn’t let Mesut to take a breath or to catch up with his pace. He simply fucked him into oblivion.

 

“S-Sergio…ngh…Sergio I can’t-“

 

The taller man ran his hand on the beautiful man’s chest, circling a nipple with his thumb and tweaked it hard, making the younger man shudder. “Come.”

 

And Mesut did. He cried out loudly as he spurted his seeds all over himself and some on the other man’s tummy, head thrown back and his body stiff. He babbled incoherency for a while and Sergio helped him to relax by switching their position carefully. He didn’t even need to pull out and Mesut was laid out on below him, eyes still half-lidded and saliva painted his mouth and chin. He looked beautiful like that. He might already fucked the pretty boy stupid, but he wasn’t done. He pulled up his teammate’s hips and started to move again.

 

Mesut writhed, still in his post-orgasm euphoria and he squeezed his muscles around the Spaniard. Two more hard thrusts and Sergio groaned hard as he reached his orgasm, filling the younger man with his come deep inside, feeling the body twitched in pleasure at the familiar warmth deep inside him. None-too-gently, the older man pulled out and Mesut gasped. He looked like a broken doll, laying there with his eyes unfocused, hand-shaped marks on his hips, come all over his stomach and dripping out from his stretched hole. In fact, he looked like an obscene broken doll. Thoroughly abused and tainted. Sergio loved that look on him; he started to wonder whether not the boy would suck him off in the morning.

 

“You okay?” the older man asked.

 

The boy still looked pretty shaken, but he nodded. He reached down in-between his thighs and slipped two fingers into his own hole, feeling how stretched and sore he was. Sergio watched with interest as he brought back the come-coated fingers to his face and stared at them for a second before he slipped them past his lips and sucked hard. Sergio didn’t expect that and bit his lip as he watched his friend licked his fingers clean and ran his hand down to his tummy, smeared his own come and brought his fingers back to his chest and smeared it down on his nipples. He sighed in pleasure and grinned.

 

“So.” He said quietly, “Would you like a blowjob in the morning?”

 

The older man chuckled as he reached for some tissue on the bedside table, “And the whole day at my place?” he turned to Mesut and wiped his tummy clean gently, eyes caressing the sensitive skin up to the beautiful boy’s face.

 

“And the other weekends?” the boy looked up at him, actually pleading with his adorable eyes.

 

“Only if you’d walk around in my house naked.” He tossed the tissue aside and pulled the cover up, letting the smaller boy to snuggle up against his chest.

 

“Promise?” he leaned in, sleepy eyes dropping.

 

“Promise.”


End file.
